


The Second-Best Couch

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Series: Keep it Real, Trust Your Dreams (and Soon You'll Stand Here Next to Me) [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: @Salm Let! Them! Be!, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mirax is a good sis, Romantic Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, no one is really happy with Alliance Security, post Second Battle of Borelias, ryshcate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: Post the Second Battle of Borelias, Wedge and Tycho find a spot to themselves in the middle of the Rogue Squadron party.the other side ofAdrenaline Crash
Relationships: Wedge Antilles & Mirax Terrik, Wedge Antilles/Tycho Celchu
Series: Keep it Real, Trust Your Dreams (and Soon You'll Stand Here Next to Me) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719898
Kudos: 6





	The Second-Best Couch

Wedge pulled on Tycho’s arm, giving an icy smile to the poor Security lieutenant that had been stuck with him for the day. “I can handle him from here.”

The lieutenant huffed but was clearly aware that Wedge wasn’t going to give up. “Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you. Go mingle, have some fun for once.”

The lieutenant blinked at him for a moment, then seemingly turned their attention to the Rogue Squadron party that was just getting into full swing. Wedge ignored them, sliding his hand down Tycho’s arm until their fingers were tangled together and pulling him along the wall of the rec room. Tycho followed with a bemused look. “You’re anxious to get somewhere.”

“Away, yeah, before they get any ideas that I _can’t_ be left with you for a few hours. Has Jace left?”

Tycho nodded. “He’s got a month’s leave secured. Vraii and I saw him off before I came back.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s able to get back. That’s enough work for the day though.”

“Agreed. Any ryshcate left?”

Wedge snorted. “Myra’s familiar enough with Rogue Squadron parties she made enough for a whole wing. Here, let’s grab some on the way.”

“Where, exactly,” Tycho questioned with a raised eyebrow, “are we going?”

“A couch.”

“A couch.”

Wedge nodded, letting go of his hand only long enough to cut another few pieces of ryshcate and pile them on a plate. “Second-best couch on base.”

“Only second best?”

“Well, the best is in the dignitary’s suite, and I think Leia’s supposed to come say hi in a few days so I’m not gonna convince anyone to drag it in here. So, second best.”

They snaked their way around the edge of the rec room, still hand in hand, to a small offshoot room Tycho had barely even known was there. Wedge grinned at him and gestured to the big couch in the middle of the room with the plate of ryshcate. “Second-best couch.”

Tycho sat and pulled Wedge down, which had the wonderful effect of Wedge almost landing on top of him. Wedge sent him a mock glare and Tycho responded with a grin. With a theatrical sigh that could only be given by a Corellian, Wedge flopped against him, hiding his own grin in Tycho’s shoulder. 

Tycho popped a piece of ryshcate in his mouth and wrapped an arm around Wedge. “Hm. It _is_ a comfy couch, by Alliance standards. Got a good view of the party too, which I imagine at least factored into some of your decision to sit us here.”

“It is a good view, which is useful when I have to think about being Commander Antilles and telling them that they really maybe shouldn’t be aiming to live up to the Hoth party, but nothing compares to the view next to me.”

Tycho did not normally think of himself as dense, but it took a moment for Wedge’s words to register as what they were. When they did he ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide the blush he knew was creeping up his face. Next to him, Wedge’s smile had grown softer, a small little thing reserved only for him. Tycho glanced up through the doorway to make sure none of the Rogues or Alliance Security were currently staring at them before turning to catch Wedge’s lips in a kiss. 

Every time they kissed something in him eased under Wedge’s gentle touch. It was the same feeling he got from standing among the foothills of the Juran Mountains: home. A home he knew was lost, but could regain in some small part in those who loved him back. And here, surrounded by their squadron, with the knowledge that all his friends were safe and happy in their roles, with the taste of ryshcate dancing along his tongue, with Wedge’s lips steady and gentle against his own, was the most at home he had felt in a very long time.

Reluctantly, he pulled back, but kept his forehead pressed against Wedge’s for a moment more. He watched in wonder as Wedge’s eyes blinked slowly back open, a sense of contentment that matched his own in sleepy brown. This close he could see the golden flecks swimming in the brown. “I’d offer to continue that somewhere else,” Wedge whispered, “but I don’t think I could stand not being able to see the squadron for that long right now.”

Tycho leaned in and pressed another kiss to his lips before finally making himself sit back up. He didn’t want to find out what Alliance Security would do if they found him “seducing a decorated hero of the Rebellion” or however Salm would spin it. He’d probably have a heart attack if he found out the Rogue Squadron betting pool about the two of them had been won by Wes a few weeks before Endor.

“I know. The only way I got myself to leave to help Jace was the thought that I’d be coming right back.”

Wedge sighed and leaned his head against Tycho’s shoulder again. “What a pair we make.”

* * *

Tycho looked up as a pair of footsteps he was fairly certain wasn’t Corran’s circled around the corner. Mirax Terrik stopped in front of them, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “You, Tycho, are _very_ lucky that Security hasn’t come looking for you yet.”

Tycho shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t covered by a sleeping Wedge. “What was I supposed to do, carry him? That would’ve ended even better for me.”

She looked between him and Wedge and sighed. “And you’re too much of a sap to wake him up.”

“I know he doesn’t sleep well anymore. That gets pilots killed, and I will do anything in my power to keep him alive. Wouldn’t be the first time we fell asleep on a couch together.”

“Yeah,” Mirax told him softly, “but it would be the first time with NRI all over you. As much as a comforting presence while he sleeps would help, I think watching you get thrown back into custody would kill him as effectively as any TIE.”

He bit his lip. “I know. I just… I miss him, but he’s right next to me.” 

Her hand landed on his shoulder. “He does too. I wish so badly that you didn’t have all these stupid restrictions. I hate seeing the man who might as well be my brother and one of his favorite people in the galaxy hurting, and there’s nothing I can do about it. But you can’t blow your chance by reaching for something before they’ll let you. Especially when I already knocked a few Alliance officers out for you today.”

The words came unbidden from Tycho’s throat, ripped out of him in a desperate whisper: “What if they never do?”

“They _will._ They _have_ to. They can’t hold you unjustly for forever. You won’t let them, Wedge won’t let them, Wes and Hobbie and Luke, who I hear has the ear of Councilor Organa now, won’t let them. I promise that you’ll be able to hold him and be held through the night without fear soon enough. But tonight, we have to wake him up enough to get him to sleep in a real bed.”

Tycho closed his eyes, reluctant to acknowledge the truth in Mirax’s words. She patted his shoulder before turning to his other shoulder and the sleeping pilot leaning against it. “Hey. Wedge. Weeedgeeee. Veggie, come on.”

Wedge grumbled in his sleep and turned his face away from Mirax’s poking finger. She continued poking at his cheek until his hand came up to swat it away. “G’way, Myra.”

“No.”

“Mirax, stop poking him,” Tycho sighed. “Wedge, love, I can’t carry you to bed, you’ve got to wake up at least long enough to walk to your quarters.”

Wedge rubbed at his eyes with the hand he’d swatted Mirax with and yawned. “Mmm. Fine.” Blinking his eyes open he glanced around at his surroundings before frowning at the distinct lack of Rogues behind Mirax. “How long was I out?”

“Maybe an hour. Everyone else went to bed; Corran was the last to leave.”

Mirax took the plate that had been holding ryshcate off his lap and grabbed his hand. Wedge let her haul him to his feet and grabbed Tycho’s hand to pass it on. With a smirk he pulled a little harder than necessary, ending up chest to chest with Tycho. This put him in perfect range to kiss to Tycho, which he gladly took advantage of. Tycho smiled, closing his eyes and letting himself relax into it.

Mirax rolled her eyes but didn’t have the heart to comment on it. Tycho’s desperate words still hovered in her mind, combined with Wedge’s frustrated rants and the all too close memory of seeing Wedge for the first time after Intelligence had told him about the failed extraction from Coruscant. 

They held hands almost the entire walk to the Rogues’ wing of the base, only stopping when they caught sight of the Alliance Security team heading their way. “Captain Celchu.”

Only Mirax’s hand on his arm stopped Wedge from growling at them. Tycho gave him a quick smile and squeezed his wrist before letting go. “Lieutenant Kaifax.”

“Are you ready to return to your quarters?”

Tycho sighed, heavy with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t. “Yes, Lieutenant. I’ll see you tomorrow, Commander, Ms. Terrik.”

Wedge and Mirax watched the guards guide Tycho down the hall until they turned a corner and disappeared. “I hate this.”

Mirax gave him a sympathetic half-smile. “We all do. Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”

Wedge fell asleep begrudgingly alone, but his dreams filled with friends and love and in them he never let go of Tycho’s hand. 


End file.
